Reflections
by Sibilant Macabre
Summary: A young woman on this plane of existance is paid a visit by the red-clad hunter. Told from first person POV. Second chapter up, three in the works! Feedback always welcome!
1. Reflections

Dante came to visit last night. It was surreal, to say the least. I wasn't expecting him, obviously. So I dithered around trying to clean up some of the mess around my place while he just stood in the door and laughed at me. I finally had to as well. I just told him to come on in, as usual. He went through the routine, left weapons, boots, gloves, coat and vest at the door, on respective hangers, then plopped down on the couch with a sigh. I wanted to ask what was wrong; the man look really stressed, but I figured he'd get to it when he was ready to tell me. I just kept my mouth shut and brought him a glass of tea, heavy on the ice.

I couldn't help but wonder what'd gone wrong; he usually comes around after a really tough mission, or one hard on his nerves. Most folks might think such impossible for the son of Sparda, but he's still human too. He hurts, cares, loves, and aches just as we all do. So much rides on his shoulders, though. It boggles the mind to think. Still, I try to do what I can to help him ease the stress; I'm insanely thrilled when he turns up at my door. He says it's just a good place, mine, better than that ramshackle pad he's got back home. I have to laugh and poke him, telling him he needs a remodel. He always agrees, but we both know he'll never do it, the lump.

But last night was a bit different; he took the glass and set it aside, holding up a hand for me to sit beside him. I'm not stupid, so I did. He looked over at me and said, as serious as anything, "Jayden, this job's gonna be the death of me." I could only blink. A sarcastic tease leapt to mind at first, but he didn't seem to be in a playing mood. I just sighed and leaned my head against the back of the couch. I had to ask. "Dante, what happened?" I wasn't surprised when he didn't answer right away. But finally he went into his monotone dialogue of the mission; seems on his plane he'd taken a routine call that turned nasty. Some idiot moron had made a deal with the demons and offered 'em as payment for something or other. I didn't really get the details and Dante didn't elaborate. I didn't really wanna know, actually. But the father had called the cops, who relayed the message to Dante. He'd been at another site and didn't get the call in time. He arrived at the specified place too late; the mother and kid had been butchered and ... feasted on. He glossed over, for which I was thankful. I just closed my eyes and wanted to cry so badly. Cause he wouldn't.

Not that he couldn't, but he wouldn't. Never let 'em see you cry. He's told me that countless times since I met him. It makes sense, but sometimes it's all right, and that's what I told him after he finished. I just reached over and took his hand, wanting to just … I don't know. Make him release some of that pain. Dante just stared at the wall, which is unimpressive, I'll admit, and said nothing. But his fingers curled around mine, nearly painful but I didn't say anything about it. Let him cling, if he would. I leaned my head on his shoulder and sighed. It was then that I felt it. He was oh-so-slightly shaking. I sat up, chiding softly, "Dante…" He turned and looked at me with those dark blue eyes, haunted with pain. "I can't, Jay. I just can't. It's too new, too fresh in my mind."

How I wanted to help him! But I couldn't. I didn't know how. And I was actually afraid to try. I mean, really, I'm next to nobody, good grief, a twenty-five year old nerd, with a fetish for blades and red leather. Which is why we get along so well, I reckon. But anyway, he just turned back to staring at the wall. I knew that really bothered him, he was so quiet and still. But he'd have to let it out in his own way. I was thankful, not to mention flattered, he'd shown up tonight. Me, I'd have gone home and hidden under the bed for the next decade or so. But I suppose that's why he does what he does. I sighed softly and curled my feet under me, leaning back against him, offering what comfort and solace I could. I even offered my red velour blanket. Not that significant, I know, but that's my favorite coverlet. He knew it and gave me a small smile when I draped it over us. I had the lamp on, so it was dark, cool and quiet in my apartment. Just how Dante liked it. Just how I liked it, too.

We sat there on the couch for about half an hour or so, not speaking, just sitting quietly. I could hear the strong beats of his heart, his steady deep breathing. The sounds were strangely comforting for a solitary creature as I am. It's not often I have company, but he knew he was always welcome here. Our fingers were still laced, his thumb slowly stroking over the back of my hand. So warm and comforting. I was slowly getting drowsy. I think I might have dozed off for a few minutes, because I heard him chuckle deep in his chest. "Did you hear me, Jayden?" I couldn't help but yawn, which made him laugh a bit. I grinned and sat up, blinking at him. "Nope," I answered. "What's up?" My stomach did that damnable fluttery thing when he lifted his other hand and pushed a bit of hair out of my eyes. "I said," he repeated, eyes earnest, "would it be all right if I stayed tonight?"


	2. Night Reflections

_Would it be all right if I stayed tonight… _ I think I just sat there and stared at him for about a good minute, my mouth open. Unattractive, I know. Damnit. But I finally found my voice, with help from God, I'm sure, and managed to squeak, "Yeah, of course." Dante just gave me one of those heart-melting grins and leaned up to kiss my cheek. "Thanks," he said quietly. I bit my tongue and _tried _to not act like a teeny-bopper fangirl with a crush. Which was sadly true, save for the teeny-bopper part. I just nodded and got to my feet, heading to the kitchen to try to relearn how to breathe.

After downing some liquid courage, as I was sure I was going to need _something _before daylight, I heard Dante rummaging around in the living room. Peering around, I saw him pulling out my couch. The thing folds down to make a bed, but I quirked a brow and said, "What're you doing, Dante?" He straightened and gave me a puzzled look. "Um…pulling out the couch to sleep on?" I had to laugh. He looked so confused. "No, that's okay. You can have my bed tonight and I'll sleep in here." He started to protest, but I went back into the living room and swatted his arm. Any excuse to touch him, hm? I'm pathetic, I know. But I shook my head and reiterated, "It's _my_ house and you're _my _guest. I insist." I can be stubborn when I want to be, and I told him so.

Dante just shook his head and chuckled. "Yes, ma'am," he drawled, cocking a hip and bowing at the waist. "It shall be as you command, o mistress." I nearly fell over at the thought that flitted through my head at _that_ little comment. He strode past me, giving my butt a playful slap as he did so. I spluttered, but he just laughed as he asked, "Mind if I snatch a shower?" My mouth went dry at the thought of Dante in my shower, naked, wet and slippery. But I shook my head, mute, and he just chuckled again and went into the bathroom. I wanted to tell him to lock the damned door, but that would be just _too_ desperate.

So I busied myself in my bedroom straightening. I actually hung _up_ my clothes, a feat, let me tell you. I don't believe in folding laundry when I'm just going to wear it again within two or three days. But I made the bed, fluffing the comforter and pillows. I'm rather proud of my satin sheets, courtesy of my grandmother. A birthday gift last year. And the comforter set is leopard print. Rar. But I smoothed it nicely and turned down the sheets, all pretty and ready to be crawled in. Shuddering away from that delicious thought, Dante in my own bed, I took my extra quilt and pillow and went to the couch. I really didn't like it pulled down; it's large enough without such, I spread the blanket and positioned the pillow at one end.

I was just cleaning up the last of the dishes when I heard the bathroom door open. Peering around the corner, I nearly fell over at what I saw. Peering through the steam, I saw Dante, standing in just a towel, in front of the mirror, toweling his wet hair. I think I actually whimpered watching the play of muscles in his bare back. Mentally slapping myself, I jerked around and almost knocked my head against the cabinet. Taking several deep breaths, I forced myself to _calm down_ and act like a rational human being, Jayden, hell! Calling around the corner, I said, "Need some sweats to sleep in? I think my brother left a pair here last time he visited." Not waiting for an answer, I rooted through my closet for Nathan's sweats and brought them to Dante, giving him a sweet smile, not one that said "I want to rape you stupid" for a change.

He grinned at me and took them, tossing the towel he'd been using on his hair in the hamper. "Thanks, sweets." I nodded. "Welcome." Turning, I went back to the living room and sat down in my desk chair, my favorite piece of furniture. I waited a minute and then the bathroom light flicked off and Dante sauntered around the corner, looking utterly edible in my brother's sweats, with tousled hair and that goofy boyish grin. I returned it, trying not to look so damned besotted. Glancing at the clock, I almost boggled to see it was nearly two am. Where _does _ the time go, when one's swimming around in thick lust? So I got to my feet and told Dante I was going to take my own shower and he was welcome to the bed if he wished. He nodded and yawned.

I didn't wait to see if he went off to bed; I nearly ran into the bathroom and closed the door. No hot shower for me, damnit. I realized this just staring in the still steamy mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes alarmingly bright. Hells, I fumed, stripping and yanking the curtain back. Bathing quickly, I washed my hair and stood under the cool spray; truly it was refreshing. Although it woke me up, I didn't mind. It also cooled my raging blood. After getting out and drying off a bit, I suddenly felt my stomach hit the floor. I'd forgotten to get clean clothes. I wanted to sob. Jayden! I slapped myself outright this time.

But there was nothing for it. All my clean clothes were snuggled away in my dresser in my bedroom. Wrapping securely in my towel, I turned off the bathroom light and opened the door, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. Dante had indeed gone to bed, because he wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. I crept as quietly as I could in my bedroom, leaving the door ajar just a bit. A soft sigh made me freeze. I was afraid to turn around, but like a train wreck, I couldn't help it. I stared.

There he was, sprawled in all his glory, Dante the demon hunter was lying atop my comforter, one arm behind his head, the other draped across that broad chest. Nathan was a bit smaller than Dante, being only seventeen, so those damnable black sweats just _molded_ to the man. From the soft light of the living room, I just feasted my eyes, wanting to just stroke and pet and cuddle all that displayed flesh. After swallowing the boulder in my throat, I managed to get my damned clothes and _leave,_ before I did something insanely stupid. Like just what I'd been thinking. Dressing in the bathroom with the speed of light, I got my wanton ass in bed, or the couch, as it were and turned out the light, rolling over to bury my face in the cushion.

I just listened to the clock tick by. After an hour of that, I finally couldn't take it anymore. I'd never liked sleeping on the damned couch; the metal rungs cut into my body and they hurt. I missed my mattress, but I was determined to brazen it out. But the kitchen light flicking on nearly had me screaming. I jerked around, heart in my throat. I heard the fridge open and took a deep breath as Dante ambled back around the corner, a glass in his hand. He reached for the light, but paused as he noticed me looking. I lay down again, hoping he'd just go back to bed. No such luck, that.

The light went off and I heard him padding over. Oh, Christ. "Jayden?" he said, kneeling down beside the couch. I opened my eyes and looked up at him in answer. "What's the matter, babe? Can't sleep?" he asked softly. I sighed and bit my lower lip. "Something like that…" I managed to say. "The couch isn't exactly comfy," I said with a small laugh, to reassure him. He chuckled, too. "Can't have that, need you walking tomorrow." I giggled. "I'm fine, Dante, go back to bed." He stood and pulled the cover off me. I squealed and tried to snatch 'em back. "Quit, you!" He laughed, nearly spilling the water. "Come on, Jayden. Come to bed and get off that uncomfortable couch." I blinked incredulously. "There's not enough room for both of us," I blurted, realizing belatedly I sounded like a _complete_ idiot.

"Bullshit," he snorted, setting down the cup and snatched my hand, pulling me completely off the couch. I squealed and scrambled to my feet, only to be snared and monkey-walked into my own bedroom. "There's plenty of room," Dante purred at my ear, "You just have to know how to wiggle around." I nearly quit breathing; I swear my heart stopped. I hiccupped to get my lungs going again. "Get in," he ordered. My Jello-muscles just did as they were told and I crawled across my own double bed and lay nearly _in_ the wall, not knowing if I was going to be able to survive this. Dante only laughed and slipped in beside me, crawling under the covers and reaching out to pull me closer. "C'mon, Jayden, hell, I don't bite."

I laughed to abate my nervousness a bit. Cool, Jayden, just be cool. A dream come true and I'm here asphyxiating about it. Nice, Jayden, I scolded myself. But I took several deep breaths and finally was able to relax, until a long muscled arm snaked around my waist, fingers splaying at the small of my back. My breath hitched. Dante quirked a brow at me. "Relax, Jay," he said soothingly, stroking my back languidly. "I won't hurt ya." I smiled slowly. "I know, Dante. I'm just nervous. Never slept with a man before," I said with a grin. He chuckled. "Well, let's remedy that, hm?" Slowly and easily, he pulled me into the curve of his arm, settling my head snugly on his shoulder. "There now," he rumbled deep in his chest. "All better."

I had to admit it was. After settling down, getting over the hump of being in the same bed with _Dante_, I gradually relaxed and put my trust in him, where it belonged. He'd turned on the floor fan, just like I did every night, and the soft droning was comforting. As was the long body beside me. His heartbeat was steady under my cheek, as was his soothing fingers combing my still-damp hair. I yawned, hearing him chuckle a bit. "Go to sleep, Jayden," he whispered, nuzzling my temple. I nodded blearily. "Mmkay…"


End file.
